To a knitter, this is like mac n' cheese, french fries, oversized flannel shirts or a soft, heavy blankie. The colors are rich and saturated, the yarn is soft, but not too soft, and enough stretch so that the stitches glide easily across the needles. The pattern is easy but has just a tidbit of change so that it entertains but still lets me slide into the zone.
This is just what I needed.
The last time I bought a home I had to have a drink. A Black & Tan. This is far more satisfying.
Mom and I found the kit in a yarn store. I didn't say a word to her about its popularity right now and she doesn't read any stuff online but she went straight for it and wouldn't let go. You know this is a good pattern and yarn if it is selling itself like that. I had to basically trick her to get it and, while she is overseas and helpless to retaliate, I've begun knitting it.
Oh wait, what did I say a little further up? The last time I bought a what?
Yep, that is right, by happenstance, poor planning, no real preparation, and blind, dumb luck. I'm a homeowner again.
I won't be eating for a couple months (to my friends that read this blog, casseroles are the best housewarming gifts for the girl who has everything except money!) and I'm still so sure that it isn't happening yet that I haven't done anything to prepare for a move. No one even knows it has happened because I'm deeply in denial.
This doesn't mean I'm not happy about the prospect of getting out of my one bedroom apartment. That was the whole point of being in a one bedroom apartment. But I go a little psychotic when I have to do a big purchase item like this. I throw myself into research but take very little action. I drive all the professionals I'm dealing with crazy because I want to understand everything and I ask inappropriate questions. Not THAT kind of inappropriate question. More like I ask the electrician about plumbing stuff and vice versa.
I become intolerable. Even I can't stand myself.
So now you know why I've resorted to comfort knitting. It may be the only thing that has kept me from late-night crying phone calls to Denmark (where Mom is) and from locking myself in my one bedroom apartment and refusing to come out.
Tomorrow marks two weeks to M-day (moving day). There may not be enough Tulip Baby Sweater kits in Oregon.
Oh, and anyone want to give me a refrigerator and washer/dryer for some old National Geographics and an acrylic yarn stash?